


The Art of Red River

by lesterslilacs



Category: Amazingphil - Fandom, Dan Howell - Fandom, Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Phil Lester - Fandom
Genre: Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 12:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20227765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesterslilacs/pseuds/lesterslilacs
Summary: "Do you ever feel?" he asks.The question brings a frown, "Everybody feels.""I don't think he did."





	The Art of Red River

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [stay in place (sing a chorus)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822504) by [SoloChaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoloChaos/pseuds/SoloChaos). 
  * Inspired by [Bluebird](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234194) by [lvckyphan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvckyphan/pseuds/lvckyphan). 

The town was quiet, quieter than usual. Maybe normal people wouldn’t notice, maybe Dan’s head thought too much for an ordinary six-year-old. The winter’s weather always created a daunting silence over the town, but somewhere Dan knew families were laughing together around a dining table. He wished that he could be a part of those families, but he had his family. Dan didn’t know the words to describe them, but all he could see them as was a deep shade of red, the shattering of a mirror. 

Underneath his feet, the snow crunched, piercing through the silence in a way that reminded him of the way the z looks in the middle of a word. The park was empty in the winter, but that made it an easy place for Dan to go. He would swing on the swings until the cold metal chains burned his palms, or sometimes read a book under the pavilion when it was particularly cold. He always stayed until he had to be home for dinner. His home was red-blue-orange, like a fire that was meant to be contained, but they had lost the control.

At the park, a boy was sitting by himself in the swing that Dan had previously claimed to be his. His hair was a blushing shade of sandy yellow and Dan stood still as the boy drew his feet through the snow every time they got close enough. 

“This is my swing,” he tells the boy, standing to the side of him.

The boy looks at him, once again dragging his feet through the snow, but digging them in enough to halt the movement of his swing. 

“There are other swings,” he says, getting off the swing and moving to the next. “I’m Phil.”

Phil. A name that was new to Dan. A name that made him think of his favourite scale that his piano teacher was teaching him.

-

Dan stayed out later than he should have, shared more than he should have, but Phil was easy to talk with. He understood Dan’s words, which his father had constantly told him he needed to stop using.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Phil says, his voice breaking the silence and interrupting the thoughts in Dan’s head. “I’ll be here whenever you need me to be here.” 

He held out his pinky and together they made a promise without words, but somehow they understood exactly what the other was promising.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prologue :) other chapters will be much longer.


End file.
